ROUGH DRAFT OF:: Dawn of Panem
by Purple Snowstorm
Summary: This is the rough draft of what is to be my new story. I need tons of concrit and ideas to make this story into a reality. Summary: Before the Dark Days, before the wars, before the floods, Panem was North America. How did it actually turn into Panem?


Dawn of Panem  
by Purple Snowstorm

**Author's Note: I researched so much trying to find a map of what would be Panem, trying to figure out what district would be in Southern California, where I live. Then, I got this idea: how in the world did Panem come into existence? What happened to the rest of the world? And, now, this is where I am; starting another fic that I am unlikely to finish but it's possible. Wish me luck! By the way, this is the rough draft, so cut me some slack, but I am most certainly looking for concrit to make this even better.**

A high school girl wearing a halter top with a short sleeved sweater sat in the park on a hot winter's day in New Hampshire around 2060. The date was January 26th, and the temperature was just creeping into the low eighties. Chrissy, the high school girl, had a haircut that just reached her ears to accommodate the temperature change. Her neck was sweating in the sun even under the shade of a large oak tree; one of the few remaining in the park of Brookfield. She was bent over a book that read, "Advanced Emotional Sciences" on the cover. Fifteen year-old Chris, as she was called by her friends, stood up and brushed her sun-bleached bangs from her forehead, sweeping them back with a hairclip.

A boy, who looked around seventeen or eighteen, with an amazing tan was strolling in the park, with no shirt on. In that time, it was uncommon for any boy to own more than one or two shirts, all of which were only worn on really special occasions. Chrissy almost swooned as she saw him and she ran towards the tall, muscularly-built man with her arms spread out. He broke out in a grin as he saw her and halted his jog, holding her close as she jumped into his arms, her arms around his large chest and her feet off the ground, legs bent at the knees.

He put her down and kissed her forehead gently. "Chrissy, I've just come from the weather station up in Alaska. The final glaciers are reduced down to only the size of Sedans. The coast is about to be completely wiped out. Jess isn't safe," he murmured while her forehead was touching his chest.

Chrissy looked up, her beautifully tanned face showing signs of worry. "Wasn't part of Maryland already destroyed?" she asked, trying to avoid the topic of her friend from the west coast.

"That, part of Delaware, a small peninsula of New Jersey, all of Rhode Island, and Massachusetts," the boy, named Lee, reminded her. "We're really close to going under…the beach is only a few miles away, and we used to be in the middle of the state. Maine's also suffering, and Florida lost about ten to twenty miles of land. Baja California's half under, and several peninsulas in Mexico are suffering. San Francisco is starting to go under and the San Diego Bay is gone. Jess's town, Lemon Grove, shouldn't be in major danger for the next few months, but still…with the excessive heat, I think she'll have to move soon."

"Well, so will we," she pointed out, absentmindedly tracing her boyfriend's chest. "I'm fifteen. You're eighteen. We're already working. If we really wanted to, we could just get away and get married. Since the marriage laws are nonexistent in some of the states, we could just elope…" she trailed off.

Lee shook his head. "I'm sorry, buttercup, but I'm definitely not ready for that. I wish I had the choice of getting a job somewhere other than in the factories or mines, but with such high demand for fossil fuels, I can't afford it. They'll hunt me down. If we're going to move, we're going to have to go somewhere where they have mines, like the Carolinas and West Virginia. And you…you'll just have to find a job somewhere that pays more. I mean, working in the offices is great and all…but you need more money."

"I hate the stupid custom of parents letting their kids go at sixteen!" ranted Chrissy angrily. "It's just not fair! I mean, my sixteenth birthday is in less than two months! I cannot manage myself!" Her voice had raised at least several dynamic levels in volume and was at least an octave higher than when she had started talking. It was true, though. At age sixteen, most children were given a small amount of money put in a drawer by their parents, since the banks had collapsed, and had to learn to manage themselves. There were housing facilities at a low quality for a low price for those children.

"I remember my sixteenth birthday… 'Happy birthday, son! Here's five hundred dollars, the classified section, and a list of open apartments! Have a great life!'" snorted Lee.

"That was just before you met me, wasn't it," mused Chrissy. "And just think…it's only been two years since then…" She had her head leaning against his chest, his hand wrapped in hers and his other around her shoulders when his cell phone rang. They broke apart as the phone read out, "Call from: Robert Ferar".

"Answer," replied Lee firmly. His earpiece presumably turned on as Robert's voice was hearable from even where Chrissy stood. "Robby? Slow down. I can't understand you. What's that background noise?"

Chrissy dried to discern their conversation. "Listen…part…weath….crumble…..subst….." At that point, Lee's face turned white as Chrissy made out two words in a row. "Going under."

Lee cleared his throat to stop Robert's insane babbling that had begun again. "Rob. Speak clearly again. Did you just say that Maine and most of New Hampshire, Vermont, and New York, are going to become part of the Atlantic Ocean?"

"Yes!" screamed Robert, loud enough for half the park to hear. Lee glanced at Chrissy. She knew that she must have looked terrified, but she could have never exactly pictured just how horrified, white, and frozen her face was.

The words slipped through her paralyzed lips before he could stop them. "We're all going to drown!"


End file.
